Alley Cat
by kaleidoscope memories
Summary: Soul Eater Not! Three-shot. There are encounters we wish would never occur; sadly they are still meant to, sneakily slipping underneath one's walls. Hadn't anyone ever warned you that curiosity killed the cat, Tsugumi?
1. Chapter 1

_Part one of two (unless I get hit by sudden inspiration and manage to make it longer, though that would be unexpected). For the (rare) ones who would like to read the sequel: if writing goes well, I should have the next part up within the next weeks, but please bear in mind I haven't started on it yet._

_I have only read until chapter 14 of Soul Eater Not (I can't find the rest), so if anything doesn't make sense with the original storyline, that's probably the reason why._

_I am not certain whether this is really horror or not, but it might be considered as it to some, so this is put up as horror. Please do tell me if this really isn't this genre; this way I can change it to the right one._

* * *

Really, Death City was as nice as ever, I mused lightly, noting the beautiful view that it offered to any visitor or resident all year long. All of the buildings were coloured in any shade of the spectrum and stretched more upward than horizontally, cramped against each other in a charming way that gave off coziness, while the streets were composed of large yellowed stones placed one beside the other in an orderly fashion. Moreover, today was a particularly pleasant day; the now darkening sky had stayed a pretty azure from the rising to the setting of the sun, sporadically hidden a little by the few white clouds floating about lazily, and the temperature, surprisingly enough for the middle of the month of October, was cool enough for most people to go around the streets covered only in light jackets.

As was usual for me after school ended, I was heading off to Master's café, humming softly to myself as I played hopscotch with the cracks in the streets. Anya-san and Meme-chan would join me later; they had had to excuse themselves, informing me that they had a (boring) special class for meister to do beforehand – visibly, weapons didn't require extra lessons for now, which made one wonder whether later the situation would become the opposite. They promised me it wouldn't take too long, only a brief meeting that no matter the length was still necessary, and I quite hoped that they would manage to keep their words true. At least the Thompson sisters were still supposed to be working at the café, otherwise I'd end up all alone – though at that time I was attempting to befriend the sisters my best friends rarely came, therefore my table was a lonely one. Perhaps my other classmates, Akane-kun or Clay-kun, would be present? Or maybe that shinigami (Death the Kid, he had presented himself as) would– _No, brain, don't go there._

Lately, things in the city had been curious, in an alarming way. Our teachers warned us about going out at night; we were to avoid night outings, or at least as little and early as possible, and to always stay accompanied. I had difficulty to believe how long it took me to convince Meme-chan and Anya-san to let me head off to Master's café on my own, though it was heart-warming to know how much they cared about me. Although if one went with my hypothesis that, since my tsundere friend was attacked not too long ago, every student of the NOT! class was freaked, it seemed obvious that rare were those who would dare disobey.

To be honest, I would have rather preferred to follow orders and wait for my friends before going out in the city all alone. The late events frightened me as much – or more – than anyone. But I seriously needed money – I might have, you know, _wasted _all of my allowance into useless trinkets... – so I didn't have much of a choice. I did apprehend that Master would scold me for being so careless, but I saw no reason why the incident would repeat itself with me, based on who it was that was attacked. Anya, for example, was a pretty, rich-looking girl who just radiated waves of confidence –_ although I suspect very strongly that it's just a cover, with how she acts the rest of the time_. Me... not so. I didn't have anything valuable on me, I looked weak, and I didn't think I'd be of any use to the enemy (who was the enemy, anyway? They didn't explain anything, except mentioning traitors), apart from being an hostage – and from what little I knew of the situation, hostages didn't seem like their next step.

Furthermore, it was still pretty clear outside – the constantly drooling sun was starting to set, dipping the world in orange, but still present – and many citizens were still bustling around. A sudden fight would stand out like a sore thumb, which meant that if I _were_ assaulted, I'd quickly be helped out by the witnesses. This city was known for its many strange characteristics; fighters were surely around the corner, weren't they?

See, no problem at all–

Was what I repeated to myself again and again, but who was I trying to kid? Those recurring nightmares of mine still plagued me, until I began to be insomniac. However, I rather preferred to work this on my own than worry uselessly my friends. I also desired the capacity of staying independent and not always rely on my friends, so this was the first step in my plan that I formed during one of those sleepless nights. If I couldn't be strong enough to protect others, I wished to at least never be a burden. I admired greatly a person like Akane-kun, who had his goal set from the start and his ambitions just as high, or Jacqueline-chan, who was determined to befriend the witc– Kim, and succeeded once she put in all she had. I needed to learn to make choices by myself, and if this was how I could get used to taking decisions, then so be it. _Yeah, right. As if I was this confident._

Besides, bad dreams were only that; _dreams_. There was no way those kinds of events would happen to me, of all person. Despite my weapon abilities, before I came to the DWMA I was just an _average_ girl, with an _average_ school life and with an _average_loving family and friends; I wasn't used to be a 'special' case. Since I moved to Death City, only my school life – and perhaps the particularities of my new friends – had changed. I was still Tsugumi, that _average _girl.

Glancing at the sun, I noticed that I didn't have that much time before the night settled in. Luckily, I also didn't have much road left before I reached Master's café. Ignoring the amused glances people sent me, I kept playing hopscotch, until I missed a step and my right foot gave under me with a foreboding noise. I pressed my right shoulder against the closest wall to keep standing (relatively) straight and gritted my teeth in a failed attempt to ignore the sting of my fresh injury.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch... This doesn't look nice..." I observed my hurt foot. My dreadful examination noticed how it was bright red and experience informed me that in a few minutes it would have swollen a lot – enough so it looked like an egg attached itself to my ankle. _Crutches, here I come... Sigh._

There was a shift to my right – the sound of clothes moving and the soft slam of a few steps heading forward – and I discovered that there was a dark alley right next to where I 'stood'.

"Straight out one of those horror movies," I murmured to myself, half-excited, half-frightened, and leant toward the alley in curiosity. Perhaps I could tell all about this to Anya-san later, with added gory details, just to see her face – horror stories both fascinated and scared her. In my mind, I already began to etch fear-inducing characteristics to narrate. Perhaps I could wait until night settled in for my tale and use that quite convenient flashlight I had brought from home – it would surely create a nice setting for my scary story. Almost nervous, I threw a quick glance at the dark place, expecting anything – or so I believed.

Eyes stared right back into mine.

My hand fluttered to my mouth automatically as I refrained a shrill scream. There was a man there! What was he doing?

He appeared relatively normal, dressed in that popular, typical way for men in their mid-twenties, slouched a bit on himself as he advanced forward a bit – _closer to me. _Normal, except for his strange tattoos and his eyes – those just nullified any normality about him. His eyes were blank– No, blank was Meme-chan's face when she just realised she forgot something again, or Anya-san's look when she was coming up with a lie to cover herself. This man wasn't _blank_, but more of a mix between alive and dead. _Brrr, a walking dead. What a pleasant comparison, Tsugumi. _He looked just plain eerie, his soulless eyes boring into mine in a fashion that caused shivers to crawl up my spine. He grumbled something that I couldn't comprehend, then straightened up to ask:

"Did you sleep well last night?"

_Did I hear correctly?_ I wondered as I cocked my head to the side "Pardon me, mister? Did you say anything?"

In the blink of an eye, his hand jerked out and grabbed my arm painfully tightly, before he pulled me in the shadowed alley brusquely. My back slammed against the wall and I let out a cry of pain. I peered at him as discreetly as possible. This man... He meant trouble. And I couldn't even escape, for he held me still with one of his gloved hand and his right feet was stomping on my injured one. _Even if I manage to divert his attention, I can't run; he'll catch me very rapidly._

"Shibusen, Shibusen... You don't protect your students enough!" he said as he made a noise of disapprobation with his tongue. His tone was akin to the one of someone scolding a child, some detached, impassive part of my otherwise panicking mind amusedly noted.

He drew out a sharp knife that glinted menacingly when it caught a ray of sunlight just beside him. We stood in the shadows just beside the open street, and unfortunately for me, it was enough for no one to notice what was going on here.

"Well now, little girl," he drawled out, a maniacal grin forming on his lips. "Let's begin, shall we?"

The knife dived in.

.

.

In the DWMA, Tsugumi's best friends were walking across the many halls, on their way to the weapon's side.

"I wonder how Tsugumi-chan is doing?" Meme inquired to Anya, who shrugged her shoulders as if it didn't concern her at all (though just the previous seconds she was pondering about the very same question).

The large hallway was desert except for the two meisters and the heels of their shoes resounded loudly against the ground. It was one of the most quietest time in this part of the school, for it was between the end of classes and the end of the extra lessons, though those had already began, as the multiple lit rooms proved. All that could be heard were the muffled voices behind doors and the two girls strolling in silence in the hall, thus it was to be expected that when rapid footsteps started, they noticed it immediately.

"Akane-san? Clay-san?" Anya asked, surprised. What were they doing in the school at this hour? Furthermore, Akane didn't even show up at that freshman meisters reunion they were just previously at.

"Is anything wrong?" Meme prompted to the two running boys.

They barely slowed down to respond, the meister throwing over his shoulder, "We forgot something importa– Where's Harudori?"

"Hmm? She went to Master's café," Anya explained to the two, as Meme couldn't recall, as usual. The runners stopped to an halt. "We're going there ourselves–"

"On her own?"

"Well, yes. We didn't want her to, but she insisted," piped in Meme with a pout.

Akane and Clay glanced at each other quickly. "Shit!"

"Uh? What's wrong? Is–"

"What are you still doing here, boys?" Sid walked in with a frown. "You should rush there as soon as possible. We don't want any victim."

The sole weapon present turned around and announced hurriedly, "Sid! I think that there's already a victim!"

.

.

The cold blade carved a line just below my left cheekbone, just digging deep enough to draw out blood and send it dripping down my cheek. I let out a small hiss – it burned, but the little experience I earned from books hinted that any noise would worsen my situation. _I can't believe I'm relying on fiction to survive, now_. The man – a traitor, I identified from our teachers' tales– smiled in self-satisfactory and leant in, his breath ghosting over my ear and causing me to shiver in disgust.

"Good, good. Don't worry, girlie. I'll just damage you a little before sending you back to your dear school in one piece." The man straightened and mimed contemplation, then grinned, a gesture that emphasised the crazy glint in his eyes. "More or less, I guess."

The weapon dived forward again, this time planting itself in my shoulder, lacerating skin and flesh as it went in and out. I lurched forward and would have screamed if his hand hadn't immediately shot up to muzzle me. Blood spurted out at an alarming pace and black spots began to flash across my vision.

"Shh, no noise. You wouldn't want to ruin my fun, would you?" the traitor whispered and proceeded to drag me deeper in the alley.

I struggled vehemently, putting all I had into trying to tear away from him, for I understood that this was probably my last chance to escape. Unfortunately for me, he was too strong for me, and he threw me carelessly on the dirty ground. My head knocked hard on the surface and I blackened for a few seconds. Gripping my shoulders roughly, he pulled my top half upward, his strange eyes searching for mine.

"Look at me," he demanded.

I stared resolutely at the ground, feigning disobedience, though I was in reality scared out of my mind and somehow trying to come up with a plan. _What am I supposed to do? I've never been in this kind of situation. What should I do? What would that senior girl, Maka, do? _Inspiration hit me with a flash. _Oh! My weapon ability! I've seen some students transform only an arm to battle by themselves. _Even though I was well aware there were more chances I failed than I succeeded, as even in a normal situation I was often unable to, I tried to shift into weapon form. I struggled in vain for a few seconds, with my attacker observing on in an entertained manner, before I gave up and let my tense body sag on the ground, exhausted. Strangely, it seemed even more complicated than usual, and I wondered if he had done something to me, apart cutting or hitting.

Getting tired of my attempts to escape, he slapped me hard, sending my head lolling to the side, and the black spots in my vision intensified. I started to feel nauseous and bit my tongue in order to not faint. _I think that fainting would only complicate my precarious situation. So, what's next, genius...?_

"Look at me," he gritted out and his hand reached out under my chin to force my head forward. I didn't have the choice; I looked into his frightening eyes.

"You're pretty weak, uh," he noted, amused. "You're already on the verge of losing consciousness, and simple poison was enough to interfere with your weapon blood." He stepped back suddenly, glancing behind him nervously, before muttering words I didn't catch. "Well, then, let's finish this, alright? Don't worry, you shouldn't die..._normally_."

Waves of panic overwhelmed my agony and I tried to crawl away from my assailant, to no avail; he kicked my sides absentmindedly and grinned at the sound of my pained groan. He dug fervently into his pockets, grumbling under his breath, and triumphantly displayed a piece of paper in his palm.

"Here, hold this," he ordered and pushed it between my trembling fingers. "You make sure to show that to your little friends, okay?"

When I didn't respond, he stepped on my stomach with a crazed laughter as he observed my face contort in more torment. "So...? What do we say?" I nodded as much as I could – which wasn't much more than a tiny jerk of the head. He smirked. "Great. A little farewell and I'll be going, then!"

The knife reappeared between his gloved hand; it plunged in my stomach, tracing a deep gash as it went from right to left. Blood oozed out rapidly from the wound and I coughed out some of the red liquid too. Agony filled my mind and my world was painted white as it spun around me. I let out a scream, a never-ending one – I just couldn't stop myself, not until my voice would get too hoarse and then broke. All I wished for was for the pain to stop; I couldn't support how much my body hurt. I felt like I was slowly burning, dissolving into minuscule particles of tortured flesh. My head pounded horribly and merely keeping my eyes open took a lot of effort out of me.

"Good, all according to plan," Some disjoined portion of my mind heard a soft voice murmur, along with footsteps heading behind me before they disappeared.

Rapid ones resounded somewhere to my left forward, along with distraught voices. I strained to lift my head_ (just a little, please, just enough to know what is going on)_ losing consciousness for a few seconds in the process. I finally managed to grasp the hazy sight of people (_Sid-sensei, Akane-kun, Meme-chan, Anya-san..._) rushing toward me, shouting in panicked tones syllables that sounded a lot like my name –

And then the world turned pitch black.

.

.

* * *

_Comments would be very appreciated, if anyone has a little time to spare. But more importantly, thank you for reading, anyway._


	2. Chapter 2

_So._

_It's been almost four months. Err. I'm really, really sorry._

_I've been oscillating between writer block and plot bunnies attack (the latter means I keep having new ideas but am unable to continue them, or just typing them down is complicated). Still, I really should have updated earlier... Anyway, I'm going to modify a few parts, makes a few mistakes disappear, in a little while (no promises, we all know what happened last time...) to improve it a little. I made you guys wait long enough, so please have this for now.  
_

_Thanks to **oi**__**nkk **(here it is, sorry for the wait!), **Magus Black **(I know, I wish someone could translate the other chapters. Hope this conclusion satisfies you until the real one is revealed), **KiraraGoesMeow **(woah, that was really nice of you! It's like you knew everything I was unconfident about and instead complimented it, haha),** SmileRen **(don't worry, Tsugumi didn't die. Here it is, sorry for the wait!), **Guest** (heeeere it is!) and **Dummy Perception **(it wasn't very clever of her, wasn't it? Here's the second part of this story...) for reviewing! It gave me motivation to write at least a few paragraphs. Also, thanks to anyone who favorited or followed.  
_

**Important:**_there is one last chapter after this. I know I said "two-shot", but the second part was getting way too long so I chose to cut it. At least it shouldn't be too long before it's up, because it's almost finished (since I wanted to make it one chapter at first)._

* * *

_In case you forgot (quite likely), in chapter one:_

_Tsugumi is heading for Master's café after school, alone, when she discovers a dark alley. There is a man standing there, a traitor, and he grabs her with the intention of giving a little lesson to Shibusen. He escapes when Tsugumi's friends arrive, leaving behind a message. She faints._

_Now, onto the next part!_

* * *

The sky is red — blood red.

I can't hear a single thing aside from my ragged breaths and my footsteps, which sound like thunder in this abnormal silence. The air is thick, heavy with an unknown threat, and gives off the impression that all sounds were sucked out of it, leaving it empty of life. Clouds of dark matter, in a fashion akin to mist, float around at various heights, most hovering just above the ground, and for a reason I ignore, I avoid touching them at all cost — instinct whispers to me to be careful around those mysterious objects. They head in no direction, only shifting slightly and swelling subtly with every tick of a clock I can't see but still hear pulse in my head.

Somehow, I recognise Death City, even in this state of destruction. Walls are crumbling down one after the other and only leave behind layers of dust that makes my throat itch painfully and my eyes brim with tears. As I walk in the streets, some of the stones, now a dull black, fall off and tumble below – where they fall, I have no idea, for when I get closer to take a look I am unable to find space, only shadows packed together.

When I glance up, there is no sun or moon; only the crimson colour, nagging at me with memories I've forgotten. With the absence of the sun, I wonder how come it is still relatively light outside (with a faint touch of red tainting the air and a veil of darkness as though night is settling in), sufficiently light for me to perceive my surroundings.

Everywhere is red and black, black and red. Up and down and left and right — there is no other colour. When I look down at myself, then too I only note black and red. I am dressed in an all black version of my usual uniform and my skin is covered in splotches of multiple shades of red — bruises, scratches, prints. If I had a mirror, or any other reflective surface, would I see that I still have brown eyes? Or did they become ink-like too?

My right foot refuses to obey my commands, motionless, complicating my steps as I head forward. My chin aches as though it was gripped too hard; my head throbs as though needles pierced through my scalp. My hands are dripping with blood and trembling violently. My stomach is slit open — also pouring out some of the life liquid. My shoulder is pierced through — oozing out blood once again. By some twist of fate, I ended up in a nightmarish Death City, covered in my own blood. Feelings of pain or emotions are strangers to me; any aching limb seems numb — only my head keeps any sort of feeling, although it does feel hazy and muddy.

And so I keep walking.

The clock, barely audible at first, is getting louder and louder as I approach what seems to be the middle of this forsaken city, for the 'clouds' all appears to point the same place.

They are also thicker and grander, though there is still enough space for me to move between — barely. I have nowhere else to head to, and staying put immediately renders me deeply uneasy. I walk and walk for what seems like hours to me. The tick of time goes on and keeps getting more booming; however I can't use the sound to guess how long I have been here. It follows an irregular rhythm, with some noises of all volume added in between the tumultuous ones who have been resounding since the beginning.  
There is no echo, I realise with a start. On such a large street, there should be at least a soft rebound. Still, there isn't any; I cast a wearier glance at the dark mist, having an inkling it is the cause.

After what seems like hours of strolling between multiplying clouds, there is none when I finally reach what I imagine to be the centre of the place, a circle of pure black stones and no instalment other than a fountain, set perfectly in the middle. This construction seems as old as any other building in this forsaken city, with its dark stone chipping away, and is relatively small for such a large clearing; with my lack of mathematical skills, I would guess around three meters of diameter. Murky, crimson water flows out of a beck at the summit without making any splash — another nebulosity of this world. A rapid glance in reveals that my reflection does not appear. Cautiously, I stretch a hand toward the water, wondering whether it will burn my skin, poison my veins, or another method of ending my life — if this is living and not an after-death experience. As my fingertips hover just before the surface, hesitant, a voice rings out somewhere behind me.

* * *

Inside the infirmary of the school, the last sunrays bled red on the bed set just beside the single window. Underneath the covers, a young girl inhaled and exhaled peacefully, her face inexpressive. The room was silent except for her even breaths and the periodic beeping of the machine relied to her arm that maintained her alive.

The door opened softly and in came two girls who seemed around the same age as the unconscious one. Perplexed, they glanced at the abandoned desk of the absent nurse, cluttered with papers, sticky notes and pens.

"Didn't she assure there would always be someone present...?" the one with long, silvery hair murmured to herself.

The other scrunched her nose in thought, then shrugged it off. "Maybe."

With a sigh, Anya walked to the other side of the room, where the sleeper laid, Meme following shortly after.

"Do you think Tsugumi-chan will wake up soon?" she inquired, seeking reassurance, as she observed her blacked out friend. When no response came from Anya, she added, "Didn't someone say she is mostly likely going to be stuck like this for a very long time? And that she is probably going to have side-effects of the attack—"

"Shut up."

"Eh?" Meme blinked, clueless.

The other meister gritted her teeth. "Don't talk about such things. Sooner or later, she is going to wake up, and she will be perfectly healthy. Okay?"

It sounded more to Meme that Anya was trying to comfort herself that her companion, nonetheless she chose to not point it out. "Okay."

Anya clenched her fists and stared out of the window.

"Okay," she echoed in a whisper.

* * *

"You can't."

I swivel around as fast as I can. A girl, perhaps the same age as me, is standing a few feet away. Her skin is so white it almost seems translucent, transforming her into a ghastly figure, and her hair, partially pulled into two little pigtails, contrasts sharply with her skin with its raven-like colour. Her clothes consist of a short skirt and a long-sleeved shirt with a collar, both jet black, and they nag at my mind to remember _something_. Although her appearance is truly disturbing, her eyes are what absolutely terrifies me. They are entirely white, even including the pupil, with the exception of a thin ring of an almost glowing scarlet where the iris should be. Perhaps it wouldn't be so frightening if it wasn't for the feral look those very eyes give, as though she was examining a prey, or perhaps I could write this off as a simple superficiality (I have heard tales of unlucky ones born with an appearance that kept getting misunderstood, after all), if her black lips weren't presently quirked up in amusement at my cowering.

"You can't touch the source; at least, not yet. Would you please step away before your fingers unfortunately dip in?" Her words are measured and polite albeit it is obvious it is a simple formality and not a sign of respect — not at all, if the way her eyes narrows indicates anything.

I jerk my arm away brusquely, having heard fully the threat underneath her silky tone. This whole world is messed up, and I have no intention of getting too reckless solely as an act of rebellion. Observing me with the same unnerving eyes, she nods with contempt when I obey and take a few short, prudent steps away from the strange fountain.

"It's for your own good, you know," she adds, almost like an afterthought, and I feel as if she wasn't only talking about the scarlet liquid.

"What... What is this...water?" I ask cautiously.

She throws her head back and laughs, a sound that fits eerily well with the still on-going chime of the clock. "_Water?_ Oh, that's rich! I thought you'd recognise it easily."

"What do you mean? How should I know?" Uneasiness causes me to bend my legs slightly in a position that will allow me to run away fast if need comes to be.

"See that?" she merely responds and points a finger upward. My eyes follow immediately.

An enormous clock tower, previously hidden behind the light-absorbing clouds, stands proudly over the city, dwarfing all of the other constructions as soon as the mist shifted away — was she the cause? At the top, an enormous clock pulses ominously, a sound that I recognise as the erratic cadence I have endured since the beginning of this nightmare. I gape blatantly, ignoring her amused smirk at my reaction.

"Does it you remind you of anything? Look at it closely. Examine its every detail. It's very im-por-tant," she spells out the last word as though I was an idiot.

As she intimated, I observe the clock carefully. Aside from its size, it seems like any other clock tower — that I can tell even if I have rarely seen one, if not any, by myself. Dark lines (from afar they appear black, albeit it could only be a consequence of the distance) decorate its snow white façade in an orderly fashion, curves precise and perfect. Obviously, there is some kind of pattern, although I can't identify it. As I pursue my analysis, I can feel the girl's eyes do the same on me, and for the first time I wonder if I've met her before, since she seems extremely familiar.

Then again, this whole place is familiar. Since the beginning, my mind is bothered by a feeling of — _something?_ How I knew I had to move right away when I 'woke' here, how I knew I must absolutely _not_ touch the clouds, how I knew I needed to head to the center and not anywhere else... Even the fountain and the tower weren't particularly strange to me, even if, in fact, it should have. Where did all that knowledge come from? Instinct? Surely, it isn't possible.

"Hmm, visibly, it's too early yet," she concludes with a disappointed tone, and frowns slightly.

'_Too early for what?_' I want to inquire, but refrain from it. She is shaking her head no so barely it's hardly noticeable, but the gesture still exists, therefore I keep quiet. She sighs; a sound I understand is only to herself

Suddenly, she turns around and glances up at the overwhelming clock. She swivels back to me just as fast, her face painted with what seems like panic, which shocks me. From the first time I noticed her until now, she was always calm; her emotions toned down and hard to read. However, now it is glaringly obvious that she is terrified. What is the cause? I do not know, but the anticipation gives me shivers of fears and my stomach knots immediately — a visceral and uncontrollable fear sending signals of warning in my head.

"We don't have much time left," is the only thing she says before staring at me expectantly.

"Which means...?" I prompt her with a vague gesture.

She rolls her eyes as though I had just failed a test even a kindergartener could ace. "You have to choose. Do you want to live or not?"

Automatically, my eyebrows arch. What did she notice that worries her so much? And what is the link between that event and my life?

She closes the wide space between us in a four long strides, stopping only when she can glare at me from a few centimeters away. With gritted teeth and a rapid glance at the clock tower, she spells out, "Do you want to live or not. Yes. Or no."

This time, my eyebrows knit together. "What do you mean?"

"Ugh, it's easy! Do you want to live? Or do you let yourself die?" She throws her arms in the air in exasperation. I don't appreciate the way she says 'let yourself die'. Am I already on the verge of dying? Why else would she use those words in particular? It feels ominous. But what if there was another meaning to this question? Perhaps it is just another way to word a much more different ordeal. Perhaps death has nothing to do with this?

"Hurry!" she urges me, snapping me out of my thoughts. "It's not complicated, moron. Life or death, you decide now, before it's too late!"

"Fine, I get it. Living or dying; it's my decision," I mutter more to myself than to her. Already I can feel myself frowning: picking a side or another was never my strong point. It takes me up to hours to decide on an action that would normally require a few minutes from most people. Furthermore, rushing me is not helping in any way.

"I ordered you to _hurry_." Brusquely, she grabbed my shirt and tugged hard on it. Her face distorts into an expression of panic when she looks at the tower. Distracted, I just notice that we are exactly the same height, and how her hair is tied up the same as my own locks.

Startling me, the clock suddenly starts to chime louder, so loud it rumbles uncomfortably in my whole body. The ground underneath our feet also shakes, adding to the ear-shattering noises. All around us, stones begin to fall like a meteorite shower, crashing to the ground before turning into the dark clouds I followed at the beginning. It is becoming difficult to see with the dirt and the mist — breathing is also turning into a complicate task.

Somehow, the girl manages to yell into my ear over the cacophony, "If you want to survive, you must dive into the source!"

Time's up.

I still have no idea whether her 'life' and 'death' mean the same as mine. However, I must go with what I am aware of, and that is my version of those words. Death signifies the end. So I ought to go with life?

I nod, and make to go for the fountain, but she doesn't release her hold on my collar yet. "Only plunge in when I tell you to! Okay?"

Again, I can only move my head up and down, and finally she lets me go as the bell's sound changes to a regular rhythm of ear-bursting ring — c_ounting down the seconds._ I dash for the fountain a few feet behind me. Time slows down, as though going trough syrup. When I glance back, it is an apocalypse vision that greets me.

The clock tower looms threateningly over us, the hands covering slowly the surface separating it from the top symbol.

Jet black rocks fall from the sky and smash so hard on the ground it breaks, propagating toxic mist in the air.

The sky is red, so red it burns. Red like flames coming to devour the world, like blood pouring out of a wound until life vanishes and leaves only an empty shell behind.

And in the middle of this destruction, the girl stands. Her eyes are wide, filled with anxiety and horror. I can see her mouthing a single word repeatedly, one I can't hear. I understand it either way.

"_Go!_"

I dive in.

* * *

_So yeah, you can expect the last chapter in a week or so. Then, when school leaves me enough time to breathe (finals make me wanna cry...), I'll go back and try to ameliorate this fic, particularly the last two chapters._

_Hope you enjoyed reading this, and please stay tuned for the last part!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Hello! Here's the last chapter which could be named 'Tsugumi wakes up' or just 'Akane'. I'd just like to mention this part was supposed to be only four hundred words or so... Which is ironic since Akane is so hard to write, but he took so much space.  
_

_Thanks again to anyone who reviewed (**oinkk** and **SmileRen**) or simply read!_

_Please enjoy the last installment!_

* * *

I woke up with a start, gasping for air, my legs getting tangled in the covers as I struggled to get up. Maladroitly, I placed my hands on the surface I was laying on and pushed with all the little force I had. My throat was obstructed, having lost all the much needed spaced for breathing. Once I finally managed to inhale enough oxygen, I started to think clearly. My whole body shook continuously and felt like lead, hard to manoeuvre around and foreign to my brain, while my head hurt terribly. In fact, sitting so brusquely gave me whiplash and I had to wait, my head hung low, until my vision cleared. Warily, I massaged my parched up throat as I looked around. Where had I ended up this time? From what little I could see in the light that slipped out of the drawn close curtains, I noted an off-white room, machines at my side, posters about anatomy... It seemed like I was in some sort of hospital? _Haven't I been here before? I feel like I recognise this place... _I frowned, at a loss. Flashes of a school tour I did what appeared like ages ago hit me suddenly. Of course, I was in the DWMA infirmary!

However, how come I required such care? Foot, shoulder, stomach, why was I so mummified? Why was my arm relied to a piece of technology I could easily recall from so many TV shows? I wished to ask so many questions, however I was the sole occupant of the room.

_First, I need to fix this state of mine. Priority: finding water..._ A second glance around informed me that on the small table (that stood in for a night table, I figured) at my bedside was a glass of water. Immediately, I grabbed it and drank it greedily, the lukewarm liquid feeling icy and just perfect to my dehydrated self. Too quickly, I emptied it and put the glass back to his spot, dejected. It made me feel immensely better and helped clear my muddled head, though I was still thirsty. Before I could decide on my next action, the door opened and in came a teenage boy I recognised right away.

"Akane-kun!" I exclaimed in surprise.

He stared at me, just as befuddled as I was, and I stared back, waiting for explanations. I wasn't even aware of why I was here, and now he came along? Perhaps he could fill me in?

Having composed himself, he grinned widely at me. "It's so good to see you awake!"

"But... What are you doing at school so early?" I asked as he walked up to my bed to sit on the edge.

"Hmm? Oh, I spent most of my waking time here, waiting by your side. I couldn't bear to leave you alone," he replied with a wink. To my confused (and reddening) face, he chuckled with a sly grin, denying, "Don't worry, Harudori. I didn't act like such a creep. Even if I had wanted to, I was too busy elsewhere."

I smiled in relief ― and maybe, just maybe, I was partly disappointed, but no telling him, okay?

"So what happened for me to end up, you know, knocked out cold? In such a state?" I gestured to my bandaged body. "Did anything important occur?"

It was the wrong question, it seemed, if the way his face darkened indicated anything.

"You don't remember?" the meister murmured, eyes a little wide and hands turned into fists against his thighs.

"I-I don't think so. No, not really," I hesitated. "...Should I?"

He glanced at me as though I was about to break at any second now. The atmosphere was tense; he drew in a deep breath and stretched his fingers in his lap.

"Some...person caused you harm. We found you too late."

His voice rang through my head, words meaningless, as if I was entirely detached from the situation. I frowned while I tried to figure them out, but it was no use as my attention was already focused elsewhere. His hands clenched and un-clenched visibly under the influence of ― what, anger? Without thinking, I grabbed the closest one and held it, and startled him so bad he jerked away brusquely, almost falling off the bed. With my whole face burning, I cradled the hand he rejected to my chest, mortified.

"S-sorry," I barely stammered out. "I didn't think..." My voice died in my throat. Oh, the embarrassment... I suddenly couldn't handle holding his gaze and grabbed the bed sheets to throw them over my head. Oh, the ridiculous me...

"Wha― No, no, it's fine!" Akane assured and tugged at the blankets, revealing my coward self in one pull. With a warm smile I kept my eyes off of, he apologised, "It's my fault, really. I was merely too caught up in my memories, that's all there is to my reaction. Sorry for scaring you."

I nodded shyly however refused to face him, and silence stretched between us. Oh, but what was I fooling around for? I desired much needed explanations, but here I was trying to ― to what, I wasn't certain, but what I had to do obviously didn't include impulsively holding a friend's hand.

"Umm, your story, could you―"

"May I hold your hand―"

We blurted out at the same time, which made him laugh softly, and I followed suit with (yet again) reddening cheeks from his words.

The meister smiled at me, the very smile he usually gave out that made me feel at ease, exactly like at the moment, along with what seemed like slightly tinged pink cheeks. "May I hold your hand? Perhaps it would help keeping my head cool as I continue my tale."

His hand closed the distance between us and halted just before mine, held open like an invitation. Hesitatingly, I accepted; he laced his fingers through mine, giving my hand a short squeeze as he did so. His palm was warm, soft but rough at the same time against my skin. It engulfed mine; reminding me that he wasn't one of my girl friends. He was a boy on the way to a man, and not just a little girl as I frequently felt like.

My vision blurred. Akane faded away, leaving place to a fragment of a scene in grey.

_A large hand, callus and full of scars, grasping my wrist tightly, too tightly ― the fingers are surely going to leave red imprints. I am pulled to, no, thrown against the wall; hitting the surface so brusquely my lungs empty._

"Harudori?"

_Two hands now, two large hands, callus and full of scars, grasping my shoulders. They hurt, grasping tightly, too tightly. They―_

"Harudori!"

Suddenly, I was jerked back to reality by Akane's worried voice. Blinking, I glanced around. I was still in the school infirmary, both hands clutching hard at the bed cover, which I forced to loosen my hold on ― I figured out that at some point in my daydream, he had let go of my hand.

"What just happened? Are you alright?" he asked right away, concern obvious in his eyes.

I wrinkled my nose as I let my thoughts run wild. What was _that_? Did it even concern me?

"I'm fine."_ I think. _"I have no idea what just came over me... Some kind of flashback perhaps? Then again... If it really was a memory, when did it take place?"

His gaze swept all over my face, attempting to read what information I let out with only my body language. "What..." He paused, as if uncertain. "What was it about?"

"I could be wrong, but I think it was about a man? A man restraining me?" I told him vaguely, my own response echoing back in questions.

"Oh," was all he said, unreadable. We stayed in silence for a few moments, him staring out the window with an enigmatic face, me expecting more explanations that seemingly wouldn't come. "Well, you had me apprehensive there," he admitted, his features finally morphing into a more common expression for him — a small, gentle smile and analysing eyes. "With how you got blank eyed all of a sudden."

I nodded shyly and silence hung heavily yet again. Scrambling for the courage to ask about my circumstances, I cleared out my throat and stared out resolutely at the floor. The meister had no reaction, or if he did, he didn't display any.

Our hands laid on the bed, solitary. None of us were strong enough to close the distance, it seemed.

"So, could you explain to me what happened?" I requested yet again.

"I don't believe it's a good idea, Harudori." He frowned. "Aren't you too tired? You just spaced out quite abruptly, too. Perhaps it'd be best if you rested beforehand."

I shook my head fervently. "No, I need to know. I won't be able to calm down until I know, anyway." I _was_ exhausted, however my words were true. I felt very tense, and it was obvious I wouldn't be able to relax until I knew why I ended up in this situation.

Akane exhaled loudly, and began telling me a not so pretty story, one that I was the main character of.

How I was ambushed by one of the traitors thirsty for blood and revenge. How they all had gone on, unaware of the pain I was going through. How they had found me lying in a puddle of my own blood, a message left in my grasp. How I was in a coma for two weeks already, while another student became a victim. How that student didn't make it.

He went to lengths to inform me about the school's predicament, on the verge of an unavoidable war. The piece of paper that was slipped between my fingers contained only a short sentence, a warning to never ignore their presence. Particularly where we didn't expect them. The other student was also entrusted with a missive of the same kind, a threat of sorts. The whole DWMA was on edge, with the EAT class ready to fight at any moment. Even the NOTs were receiving special training lately, since the entirety of the student body was targeted. For now, all was calm, though the tension was omnipresent in the air. Everyone knew it was solely the lull before the storm.

Once he finished speaking, Akane glanced at me. His smile was bitter. "Now that you know everything, what are you going to do, Harudori?"

"You mean..." I wrung my hands together. "Whether I want to participate in the battle?"

He nodded gravely. "The options are simple: either you go back to class, along with a few extra lessons for the two weeks you missed, either you head back home until the city is peaceful again." When I opened my mouth to ask, he précised, "Home as in your parents' house."

"Why?" My throat felt dry; this time it wasn't only because I was dehydrated.

"They attacked you once; they'll attack you twice. You're a very interesting prey now ― what you represent is different from the other students. The fact that you are the one they harmed first to declare war and that, out of two, you are the only one who survived, well, you have a different symbolisation now."_  
_

"Symbol? Me?" I didn't really get what he meant.

"Let's say they catch you a second time ― which I do so hope won't happen ever again," he started, his tone serious and analytic. "For us, it means we're back to square one: our struggles amount to nothing. However, for the other side, it signifies they are powerful enough to past the same defences twice. Compared to whatever our reaction to their warning was, they are stronger than us."

"But... All that for me? For a mere symbol?"

He sighed, looking compassionate. "I know it does seem a little exaggerated. However, in war, the mood is actually crucial. If we believe we are going to lose, then we will. If we do not have the conviction or the motivation, we can't win. And so, because of that, a mere symbol, as you word it, is indeed mattering."

"Oh. A-Alright then." Closing my eyes, I struggled to regain some sensation of tranquility. At first, his words made no sense at all. Me? Ending up in such a situation? Impossible. I couldn't even recall it, not a single part apart from that flashback from earlier. _I wish I remembered it_. Before I could realise, the thought flew out of my lips.

The meister pursed his lips immediately. "You wish you remembered?"

Timidly, I bowed my head yes. He stared at me so intently I feared he could see through my soul, but sighed deeply after his examination.

"If you really feel the need of it... Fine, then. Let's try to get your memories back―"

―was all he said before he reached out and lifted my shirt. I didn't even have the time to squeak.

"There." He gestured at the bandages covering the integrality of my stomach, then glanced up, his hand still holding my shirt halfway up. My burning face seemed to pique his curiosity and he looked me over with concerned eyes, while his hand dropped slightly. "Oh!" This particular motion clued him in; in a flash he had let go, letting the distance grow between us as he retreated. Coughing awkwardly, he pointedly avoided to met eyes with the cowering me. "Sorry, didn't think before moving..."

"R-Right. It's fine," I stammered out, sinking under the covers. Then I jerked up suddenly, "Wait!" His eyebrows shot up ― briefly I noticed his cheeks were pink. "That's not normal!"

"I agree, I shouldn't have acted―"

"No!" I shook my head vehemently. "Come closer." Hesitantly, he obeyed. As soon as he was near enough, I held my hand up to place it against his forehead: as I thought, it was warmer than it was supposed to be. Triumphantly, I said, "I knew there was something wrong with you to not notice implications so obvious! You're feverish!"

Akane chuckled softly. "That's just like you..." he murmured in a tone akin to wonder ― why, I didn't know. "You caught me there," he admitted with a bashful grin. "I haven't got the time to sleep for real, these days."

"Then you should rest!" I replied right away.

"I can't, you know that."_ I do._ "Maybe once things have settled down a little, I'll try to get a full night of sleep. But it's only fatigue, Harudori, it's not worth you fretting over me. Though I appreciate it."

"You better!" I mock-ordered, wagging a stern finger at thin. He laughed, and I smiled with satisfaction. I hated seeing him so downcast. He was supposed to be that teasing friend who I never knew if he meant his suggestions, not a tense guy so out of it he was completely out of character.

"Well, although it was pleasant to speak with you, I must go now," he announced, pointing with his thumb at the clock on the wall.

"Likewise." I nodded with a mix of disappointment and relief. "Take good care of yourself now!"

"If Harudori says so, then I have no other choice." He winked, already heading for the exit. "Make sure to be careful you too. No one enjoyed you being hurt."

"Of course." Another nod.

Just before he disappeared to the hall, I hurried to say, "Thank you for telling me."

His eyes softened as he mouthed 'no problem'. With one last smile, he went out.

As soon as I heard the telltale 'click' of the door shutting close, I let out a sigh and dropped the grin I wore.

"I managed to chase him off. Now what?" I said aloud, placing a palm against my bandaged stomach.

Tears threatened to fall down ― I inhaled deeply, clenching tightly at the covers as I did so. Yes, Akane wouldn't witness me weep, but I knew if I put down my defences now, I'd crumble. It would take too long before I was 'me' again. And that meant allowing others to worry and treat me differently.

The horrors he told me rang in my head, echoing in a voice that wasn't his. It sounded more like mine ― and I wasn't sure whether that was positive or not. I remembered now, I remembered.

"What am I supposed to do? _What am I supposed to do?_"

Panic washed over me. It felt like drowning, like limbs beckoning me into madness. _Let go, Tsugumi, let go._ I clamped my hand over my mouth and bit my skin. It was all I could do in order to silence a scream. I had to stay level-headed. I had to!

"It will be alright. You just take the time to pick the right decision, hey, nothing complicated. Judge the pros and the cons, take your time. Then you'll see. One step at a time," I told myself as confidently as I could (which, at the moment, wasn't much), head cradled in my hands. "One step at a time, easy." Snort. "Yeah, as if."

Once I had calmed down ― though there was still this unsettling sensation within me, whispering words that drew me in ― I looked at the clock on the facing wall, wondering why its regular ticking reminded me of danger, or why I felt like it was going too slow, too soft. I shrugged it off ― I had other problems to concern myself over.

By indiscreetly going through the contents of the night table, which was composed of two small drawers, I a pad of paper and a pen. I tore off the cap with my teeth, noting with relief that the pen functioned perfectly when I scribbled _Why I should risk it_ on one side of the sheet. _Or not_ said the second half, and then I drew a not so straight line in the middle.

"Right. Let's do this one step at a time."

* * *

Sitting on the roof, the girl in white and black waits. She listens to an inaudible question, head cocked to the side, dangling her legs up and down in the air as she ponders on an explanation. A few moments tick by in the entirely empty world save for her and a strange clock tower.

"Why I let her go? Well, I guess it was for our own good," she finally answers.

A remark comes from the air, and she throws her head back as she laughs childishly.

"I know, I know. All I did was giving her a raincheck: the real dilemma only starts now, Tsugumi Harudori. Live or die? No, rather ― _fight or flee?_"

* * *

...

_Okay. This story is officially over! All that's left is for me is to go back and correct my multiple mistakes, which I'll probably do toward the end of June — earlier is pretty much impossible.  
_

_Thanks a lot to everyone who read, reviewed, followed or favorited! I really appreciated it, believe me._

**As for what Tsugumi's dream meant, it's your pick. What I intented to write turned into something completely different, so here are a few theories:**_  
_

_- It was just a dream, a symbolic one. It was a message from her subconscious, saying she had to wake now before it was too late. The world was how she felt; the world crumbling (the traitors, the attack) and the clock tower being very important (time passing by too quickly, hasty decisions).**  
**_

_- There was poison on the traitor's blade. It gave her delirious nightmares. Or;  
_

_- It infected her with black blood (though that would interfere with the main plot of Soul Eater).  
_

_- In the chapters that were translated, it was never mentioned how she discovered she was a weapon. Perhaps it was traumatic enough for her to develop a second personality._

_- Anything else? Have fun!_


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